


If You Feel Unsure, Just Look to the Stands (I'll Be There Cheering You On)

by 1hobo_harry1



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Harry is a cheerleader kind of?, M/M, Seattle AU, football au, pure fluff, ya its really just fluff and nothing else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:19:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1hobo_harry1/pseuds/1hobo_harry1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Football Au<br/>Or the one where Louis is playing soccer in America and Harry is his biggest fan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Feel Unsure, Just Look to the Stands (I'll Be There Cheering You On)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone,  
> So ya this kinda sucks but I hope you enjoy it!  
> Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors. I wrote this at like two in the morning  
> Oh and also I don't own any of the boys and everything that happened in this story is completely made up(sadly).  
> Tumblr: hobo-harry

Louis steps off the plane, his muscles stiff from being forced to sit for the long flight. The watery Seattle sun blinks at him from above the terminal, its last light doing its best to illuminate the tarmac.  
“At least the weathers like England” Eleanor, his manager, murmurs from behind him. Louis does his best attempt at a smile, knowing it’s not her fault he blew out his knee and proceeded to get shipped across the world to play shitty football for the shitty MLS. American football is a joke. Or soccer. Whatever the Americans call it. It’s a disgrace to the sport really, Louis muses.  
See a year ago Louis was living the life. He was starting center midfield for Manchester United. He got to travel all over the UK and Europe and even the world doing everything he loved. All it took was a badly placed left foot for that all to come tumbling down. Two surgeries later and Louis was hardly back to his prime. His coach finally pulled him aside after a particularly poor performance and told him sadly that they decided it was time to let him go. He would be moving to Seattle, a town Louis knew would be filled with pretentious hipsters and hippy wanna be’s. The Seattle Sounders were good, but nowhere near the best even by American standards.  
“This is going to fucking suck,” Louis sighs pulling his bag higher up on his shoulder and setting off towards god knows what. 

Three weeks later and Louis finally knows the name of almost everyone on the team. Or just the starters. Okay not even that. Louis knows the name of a whopping five people. Two of which, Niall and Liam, he’s rooming with until he can find an apartment of his own, and the other three are his coaches. So ya Louis knows no one’s name.  
“Oi Louis, mate. Ya bout ready t’ go?” Niall yells loudly across the locker room. He plays left defender and though the Irish boy looks small, his slide tackles can pack a punch and his vocabulary of swear words rival none other. Niall is one of the few players on the team who has earned Louis full respect.  
It’s their first game, or at least the first game in which Louis will be starting. He pulled his act together just in time to play the Sounders biggest rival, the Portland Timbers, who judging by the film Louis has watched, are as weak as whoever came up with their shitty name.  
“Ya, want to head out to the field and take some practice shots? It takes extra time to warm up my fucking knee” The other players around him shoot him looks of sympathy. By now everyone knows his story, and most knew about him before he ever came to the MLS. Louis doesn’t want their pity. He wants them to admire him for his talent and skills. He wants to be more than just another washed-up European football player sent to the United Stated after he could no longer keep up with the big leagues.

The field at Century Link is turf. Louis isn’t used to the way the ball bounced high above his head and rolls at least ten yards farther than he anticipated. Turf fields. That’s almost as disgraceful and the word soccer. What’s wrong with grass? Why does everything in America have to be artificial.  
Louis jogs over to the stands, the rant about the blasphemy of a turf field continuing in his head. If the field was grass his last shot probably wouldn’t have been five yards wide, the ball lodging itself under the first row of seats.  
“Hey, mate. Mind fetching my ball?” Louis shouts up at the boy seated in the first few rows. His white t-shirt gapes at the neck, exposing sharp collar bones embellished by inky black swallows. His curly head is bent over a note book, his toe, clad in ridiculous leather boots, tapping along to whatever rhythm must be pouring out of his ear buds. Definitely a hipster. He embodies every stereotype Louis dreamed up when he first heard he was moving to Seattle. He doesn’t hear Louis.  
“Mate!” He tries again, louder this time, but still to no avail.  
“Lou just leave it. One of the attendants will get it before the game starts.” Niall yells from the eighteen where he’s stretching out his hamstring.  
“No this hipster fuck needs to learn to pull his head out of the clouds and pay attention to the world around him. Especially when that world includes me.” Louis mumbles, not even loud enough for Niall to hear. He hoists himself over the bar separating the stands from the field. He pulls his ball out from under the row of seats then goes over to tap the kid on top of his curly head. He starts and looks up at Louis, wide green eyes framed by impossibly dark lashes. Louis mouth goes dry, taken aback by the boy’s beauty. Who knew curly haired hipsters could be so attractive.  
“You’re Louis Tomlinson.” The boy says, after a few seconds, his mouth agape. His voice is deep and rough, and Louis temporarily imagines how much worse it would be after deep-throating Louis’ dick. He certainly has the lips for it.  
“What?” Louis says, temporarily flustered, dirty thoughts centered around the boys mouth distracting him. “Oh. Ya I am. Wait why do you know that? No wait. Stop looking at me like that. I’m supposed to be coming up here to tell you off for being too absorbed in you shitty acoustic indie rock to notice I needed your help.” He can feel his cheeks burning. This is not the way this was supposed to go.  
The boy blinks away his awe struck look and flushes.  
“Sorry I would have helped! You’re like my idol. I mean not in a creepy way. God I have pictures of you on my wall. Not in a creepy way!” The boy is completely beet red by now, looking like he wants to crawl under the chair he’s currently sitting on and never come back out. “And um it wasn’t indie rock, it was just a new percussion beat I’m trying to write to. I lead the cheer section. Or like, the fan section.” He ducks his head down, probably praying Louis would leave him alone.  
“Okay then Cheerleader I’ll leave you to that. Just pay attention next time.” Louis doesn’t know what to do next, feeling like he should offer the boy an autograph or something. Or maybe a quickie in the locker rooms. He is quite pretty.  
“Tomlinson!” Coach yells from the center of the field “Stop making friends and get down here. The game’s starting soon and I expect you to make some enemies.” Louis looks over to them then back down at the boy, nodding and turning to head back over the railing.  
“My names Harry” the boys squeaks from behind Louis, making him pause. He looks back over his shoulder.  
“Make sure you yell my name extra loud, Cheerleader” Louis says, throwing in a wink and making Harry blush and nod quickly. Louis jumps the bar and jogs to center field. He’s got a show to put on.

The Sounders end up crushing the Timbers 4-1. Harry screams louder than anyone when Louis puts goal after goal into the back of the net. His curls bounce as he jumps around leading the South end of the field in noisy and sometimes crude cheers. He winks at Louis, seeming more confident and in his element when surrounded by fans and the beating of a drum. Louis scores a hat trick and feels on top of the world as he files off the field, shaking hands with teammates and opposition alike. Niall hops on his back hollering in his ear, his Irish lilt making him feel closer to home than he has in months.  
“What d’ya say to some pints mate? You earned them!” Niall says, Liam nodding along at his shoulder, his warm brown eyes twinkling with happiness and leftover adrenaline from the game.  
“Ya alright.” Louis pauses, thinking of jade green eyes and pink lips. “Is it okay if I invite a friend? I need to extend my group of mates beyond just you two.”  
Niall looks offended “Who could be better than us?”  
Louis just chuckles and jogs over to the stands behind the goal.  
“Oi! Cheerleader!” Harry jerks his head up from where he was packing up his bag of supplies. What supplies do cheerleaders need? Louis decides this is at the top of his list titled “Questions to ask Harry the cheerleader”. Followed by Where do you put your dick when your jeans are that tight? and Are you above wearing a cheerleading skirt during sex?  
“Fancy some pints?” Louis shouts, mustering up his most winning smile. Harry grins back “As in beer? I’m underage Lou” Louis decides to ignore the flutter of his stomach at the nickname.  
“Oh don’t be a loser Harold. There must be some pretentious eco-friendly bar in this city that lets in kids. Niall probably knows one. Come on live a little!” Harry looks unsure, but all it takes is a waggle of Louis’ eyebrows in his direction to have him nodding along with a small smile.

“Come on a date with me” Harry slurs drunkenly into Louis ear a few hours later, his hands wrapped tightly around Louis small waist, as he stands unbalanced beside Louis at the bar.  
“Harold I’m flattered, but you aren’t sober enough to tell up from down. I don’t want you saying anything you might regret.” The two beers Louis drank have only given him a slight buzz, and he chuckles as he looks up into Harry’s flushed face. Despite his unnatural height, the boy was definitely a light weight.  
“Wouldn’t regret it. I’ve been dreaming about it since I was sixteen. Dreaming about you since I was sixteen.”  
“That could be considered stalking,” Louis jokes, trying to hide the flush that’s creeping up his neck, smiling at the way Harry looks embarrassed “Come on Cheerleader, let’s get you home.” He leads Harry out into the warm summer night air, the streets illuminated by the neon lights that hang from the tall buildings of downtown. Rain has started falling lightly from the clouds above, and Louis breathes in the heady smell of wet asphalt.  
“ ‘s my favorite smell, rain.” Harry says, gazing fondly down at Louis, his head cleared by the fresh air. Harry takes note of how small Louis is in comparison to Harrys ginormous frame. Louis looks up at him, rolling his eyes and stepping around him to wave down a taxi.  
“I can walk,” Harry says “I only live a few blocks from here” He gestures vaguely down the street, towards a cluster of brown brick apartment buildings. Louis stares at him then nods as though making up his mind about something. “I’ll walk you. Let me just go tell Niall”  
He’s back within minutes and waves his hand in front of him, prompting Harry to lead the way. Harry loops his long arm around Louis shoulders, feeling them tense and then relax into his touch, leaning closer to his body, blocking out the rain.  
“You know Louis, you’ve been here a month already and I reckon you still haven’t had a proper tour of the wonderful place that is Seattle, Washington” Harry says proud that he manages to get it out with minimal slurring, taking his time to pronounce all the syllables.  
“Harold I do not need a tour guide” Louis says sarcastically but he’s biting back a smile. He wraps his arm around Harrys middle (to support him obviously, the kid’s drunk) and looks up at his face, seeing the way his eyebrows seemed to have dipped in the middle showing frustration or maybe just concentration. Louis isn’t sure.  
“It wouldn’t be a tour, it would just be one mate showing his other mate around a new city. And possibly ending with a romantic make-out session on top of the space needle”  
“That’s very presumptuous of you, Cheerleader. Maybe I’m straight” Louis says, looking anywhere but Harrys wide eyes.  
Harry snorts “Not possible”  
Louis pulls up short, turning to face Harry. “What do you mean by that? I could totally be straight! I’m tough! I’m a footballer for god sakes.”  
“No need to get so defensive,” Harry holds up both his hands, his mouth tipping into a lopsided grin, one dimple popping out. Louis wants to run his finger over it, or maybe his tongue, just to see if it’s really as deep as it looks. “I have a very sharp intuition when it comes to these things” Harry says, tapping his temple and nodding his head knowingly.  
Louis rolls his eyes and then continues walking. How can one person be so cute yet so sexually frustrating? Harry catches up to him within seconds, tossing his arm back over Louis shoulder. “What do you say Lou?”  
“Give me your phone Curly,” Louis sighs holding out his upturned palm. “You can text me the details.”

Wake up Loubear! We’re going sightseeing!! xxxx  
Louis groaned rolling over in his wide bed, the comforter getting tangled up around his bare chest. It’s been almost a week since he gave Harry his number and the two have been texting almost non- stop. Harry never fails to make Louis chuckle with the random facts he sends throughout the day (“Lou did you know British spies used to use semen as invisible ink?”) and Louis would like to think his sarcastic quips are the highlights of Harry’s day (“I did not Harold but thank you for informing me of that completely useless information”). Its Saturday now, his one day off. He wanted to sleep in. But instead he gets woken up by someone who is way too adorable and chipper for nine o clock in the morning. He pulls himself up, rubbing his eyes, and pads barefooted out into the kitchen.  
Liam is standing at the counter, blender whirring. He’s covered in a thin layer of sweat, obviously having hit the gym already. Even for a football player Liam is ridiculously in shape.  
“Leeyummm” Louis groans, folding himself into a chair at the kitchen table “I have a date with a ridiculously cute boy today and I don’t know what to do.” Liam looks at him over the top of his shake glass.  
“What do you want me to do about that” He asks sitting across from Louis at the table, passing over another glass of protein shake.  
“ Support me in this time of emotional need obviously” Louis rolls his eyes as he quickly taps out a reply Harry, telling him to give him at least an hour to get ready then adding his address at the end. “What if I scare him away with my unnatural amount of weirdness?”  
“Don’t think that’s possible. You’re quite charming when you want to be.” Liam says with a small smile. “Just be yourself.”  
Louis lefts out a small huff of breath before pushing back his chair and stomping back to his room to shower.  
Exactly an hour later there’s a soft knock on the door to the apartment, causing Louis to race to answer it before Liam, or even worse, Niall, answered it first.  
Harry grinned down at him from the hallway, his hair artfully tousled, his plaid button-down and ripped jeans making him look so breathtaking but also like he’s not trying at all. Louis thinks it’s not fair.  
“Good morning Cheerleader” Louis says with as big a smile as he can muster with the knot of nerves forming in his stomach. Or maybe it’s Liam’s protein shake. It did taste questionable.  
“You ready to go?” Harry says with a flick of his hair. Louis nods and steps out into the hall, shouting a quick goodbye to Liam and Niall, before shutting the door behind him.  
“Show me the world”

“So tell me Curly, what got you interested in cheerleading?” Louis asks, as they sit, ankles locked around each other, outside the Dahlia bakery, munching on Caesar salad and paninis. They had already visited most of the iconic spots around the city, including the Fremont troll, the Great Wheel, and the giant fountain in the heart of downtown.  
Harry chuckles around his sandwich. “Always wanted to be a soccer player, but when I hit puberty and discovered I had the bodily control of a baby horse, I gave up on that dream and set out to inspire the citizens of Seattle to join me in celebration of my home team. Also my dad partially owns Century Link field, so I mean I practically grew up there.”  
“I guess that an acceptable answer” Louis says taking a sip of his lemonade.  
“What about you? What would you be doing if you didn’t play soccer?” Louis hesitates at this question, thinking it over thoroughly before nodding and stating “A drama teacher.”  
Harry barks out a laugh, quickly covering his mouth and glancing around self-consciously.  
“Drama? Louis how do you wonder how people think you’re gay when you’re literally the embodiment of every gay stereotype that’s out there.” He says, still giggling.  
“That’s not true! I hate shopping especially with girls, and I’m horrible for fashion advice.” Louis pouts.  
“Okay so maybe one doesn’t fit you. It’s okay you can be my gay best friend.”  
“Harry you’re gay too. I don’t think it works like that.”  
Harry smiles, blindingly white “ Whatever you say Loubear.” Louis rolls his eyes and then pushes aside his empty salad container and standing up.  
“Where to next gay best friend?”

Next turned out to be a tour of the EMP and a stroll through Hemp Fest, which was set up in a big grassy park. Louis tells Harry that he swears he got high just by walking through the clouds of smoke and that it’s all his fault if he fails one of coach’s drug tests. Harry tells Louis that legal pot is one of the beauties of Seattle and that he should just breathe deeply and enjoy.

“Harry this is amazing” Louis breathes as they step into the restaurant at the top of the space needle. The wide glass windows offered diners panoramic views of the twinkling city below.  
“Did you know that the Space Needle was the first ever rotating restaurant?” Harry says standing beside Louis as he gazed down at Lake Union, the light of the setting sun reflecting of the dark water and the boats still out trying to absorb the last rays.  
“Where do you even find these weird facts?” Louis says turning to face Harry. Harry only smiles softly.  
“I’m just brilliant I guess. Come on, let’s go up to the observation deck while we’re waiting for our table.”  
They step out it the humid night air. Louis shivered as he leans over the bar, his t-shirt not warm enough for the high altitude. Harry’s arm suddenly falls across his shoulder, pulling Louis in tight to his side. Louis looks up at Harry’s face, at his wide smile and dimples and green eyes.  
“I like you quite a bit, Cheerleader.” Louis whispers shyly.  
“Right back at ya, you soccer stud” Harry grins “Now I do believe I promised you a romantic make-out session on top of the space needle.”  
Louis snorts, but stands up on his tip-toes for the kiss anyway.

The Sounders won the MLS Cup that season. Louis topped the chart for leading scorer, only because he had his biggest fan cheering him on from the sideline. (After the championship game Louis finally got the answer to his question, Harry was definitely not above wearing a cheerleading skirt during sex.)


End file.
